


the cheater's room

by mopgoro



Series: the porn that will go on my callout post [10]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Fuck Or Die Adjacent, Light Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28404078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mopgoro/pseuds/mopgoro
Summary: Akechi and Akira discover that the only way to move up to the next floor of Sae's casino is to cheat... mostly using sexual favors.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Shadow Niijima Sae/Akechi Goro (Briefly)
Series: the porn that will go on my callout post [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885705
Comments: 7
Kudos: 106





	the cheater's room

Futaba reports she can't make head or tail out of the elevator up to the next floor to Sae's casino. "I'm sure there's a key or a keycard or something to make it open," she says, "but I can't find it for the life of me. If I had to guess, it's probably somewhere on this floor..."

 _This floor_ only includes dozens and dozens worth of slot machines and tables full of blackjack, poker, and mahjong. "Oh, great," says Ryuji. "Just _somewhere here_."

"It could also be back on the first floor of the casino," says Futaba sourly. "Do you want to start there, instead?"

"No! Well—hang on, if you don't know where the key up is, it _could_ be all the way back there—"

"It's not gonna be!" Futaba retorts.

"You don't know that! Why don't you use your fancy hacking skills and find out!"

"Oh, I'm just gonna hack the mainframe to find a plastic keycard, am I?"

"It would be much faster to split up and work individually to scour the room," says Akechi, interrupting the sort of usual friendly squabbling that the other Thieves would have normally let carry on. His impatience is palpable. Ann makes a face behind Akechi's back and twiddles her pigtails.

 _He means that he'd rather work alone_ , Akira thinks. Behind Akira, Ryuji barely restrains a scoff.

" _He really doesn't like listening to directions, huh_ ," says Futaba over the private telepathic comm line via Necronomicon to Akira alone.

"Splitting up seems fine to me," says Akira at last. Akechi flashes him a cheerfully plastic expression that makes Akira wonder if he hallucinated all the times he and Akechi went to the jazz club alone, and then Akechi turns on his heel and beelines it for the far side of the room. As he watches him go, Akira turns, just slightly, to Futaba. "Keep an eye on him."

Futaba's response comes over the private telepathic line: " _Eyes have been on him for the last two weeks, but thanks for the reminder._ "

Akira spends maybe an hour poring over a way to unrig the thoroughly rigged blackjack tables with Makoto and Haru before Futaba's voice announces, " _Crow's got something!_ " Four seconds later, a shadow pulls up in the corner of Akira's vision, and a classy, old-fashioned key drops in his lap.

"Pardon me for interrupting your investigation," says Akechi, in a pleasantly unapologetic tone of voice. "But I've found a rather interesting room that might be of use to the rest of the team. Since I was investigating alone, I thought I should let you know."

Makoto and Haru exchange a look. Every other Phantom Thief had paired up: Makoto and Haru and Akira, Ryuji and Ann, Yusuke and Futaba and Morgana. They'd all at least told Akira what they were thinking or planning, and Akira had given his thoughts or advice. Akechi had just disappeared and reappeared with the results, like a mercenary dropping a severed head on a desk without even bothering to pretend he needs or wants teammates.

If Akechi is trying to integrate himself into the Phantom Thieves, he's not doing a very good job of it. Akira doesn't know what else he could possibly do to make everyone on the team more nervous about interacting with him than this. It's worse, almost, than the fact that he's going to kill Akira on November 20th, because even Ryuji had thought that it must be impossible to work together with friends and teammates and not grow at least a little bit attached. And yet here they are, and interacting with Akechi is still like trying to touch skin through a thick sheet of cellophane.

"Thanks," says Akira at last, instead of literally any of this.

Akechi cocks his head. "You're a very hands-off sort of leader, aren't you?"

Akira scratches the back of his head. "He places a lot of trust in us to do as we see fit," says Makoto.

"Which doesn't mean he doesn't give us support and help when we need it!" Haru adds cheerfully. "He's a lot like one of those gardening posts that helps vines grow upright."

Akechi gives a little laugh. It sounds like a soundbite. "What high praise, to be such an... upright influence on others."

"Orders aren't really my thing," says Akira.

" _They're mine!_ " Futaba adds over the telepathic comm line, with a little goblin snigger. " _Crow, are you gonna use the ring that Joker bought for you or what? It covers your weaknesses!_ "

"I'll put it on at the next saferoom," says Akechi, like he had about four saferooms ago. "Now, Joker, shall we get going?"

As the Thieves reassemble and Akira fits the key into the door lock, Futaba switches to a private comm line with Akira alone: " _He's_ really _super bad at this team thing, huh?_ "

Akira shrugs and doesn't respond. He's not really a great leader, either. He's just blessed with hard-working and dedicated thieves—at least so far. And he takes care of his own, which, sometimes, people seem to mistake for him "being a leader."

If anything, the way Akechi's behaving isn't Akechi's fault. It's Akira's, because Akira can't make up his mind if Akechi qualifies as "his own."

The key turns and the door slides open. Inside is what looks like a circular office with a chair, a couch, a coffee table on a rug. Atop the desk sits a little metal placard that reads: _The Cheater's Room_. There is no other instructions. Not even an explanation of what the placard means.

"The hell?" Ryuji says loudly. "So it's not even the way up? What're you playing at, Crow?"

"The better question is what the casino is playing at," Akechi replies.

Akira frowns, puts his hands in his pockets. They've never seen a room like this before in the casino, and it feels important, but neither does he know what to make of it. "You found it like this?" Akira asks Akechi.

"Indeed," Akechi replies, in the sort of voice that makes Akira very certain he did not. But he can't accuse someone on a hunch.

Akira considers this. They don't have any other options, and no matter how long they search the game floor, they still turn up nothing with regards to getting the elevator open. "Let's search the room, then. Maybe there's something here."

They scour the room and find nothing. Futaba scans nothing unusual. When they return to the main floor, they find even more nothing. Eventually, when Ann starts to yawn, Akira decides to call it a day.

* * *

**Akechi** : Kurusu, can we discuss the recent room we found in the Palace?  
**Akechi** : I have a hunch about how to proceed.  
**Kurusu** : Share it at the next meeting?  
**Akechi** : I'd rather not.  
**Akechi** : Would you meet me at there after school today?

* * *

As it turns out, the office desk came with a slim manila folder full of rules. The rules of The Cheater's Room go like this:

  * _Touching, fondling, and sitting on someone's lap while in this room grants a map of the entire floor._ (Not useful, since they have Futaba.)
  * _Kissing qualifies for a very small health boost. The longer you kiss, the more health you regain._
  * _Nudity or stripping qualifies for a bonus called "Prosecutor's Insight," which enables any player to see through solid objects or darkness for up to ten minutes._ (Akira wishes he'd known about this before they'd done the House of Darkness challenge.)
  * _An orgasm without penetration qualifies for a bonus called "Stacked Deck," which enables any player to alter one game rule in their favor._
  * _Penetrative sex (oral, vaginal, anal) grants instant passage to one floor higher, with or without membership or keycard permission._



A lot of these would have been useful to help cheat through other challenges, in retrospect; theoretically, Akira can see how this would be as a helpful way to hack the other, more difficult competitions. It's another way to cheat, more or less.

Like Akira suspects much of bureaucracy and the justice system operates, unfair advantages are gained by doing sexual acts.

Akira closes the manila folder, puts it on the office desk, and sighs. "You knew about this."

"I found instructions in the desk and confiscated them before I flagged it," Akechi replies. "I thought it might be better to discuss it with you when younger members weren't around."

"You were protecting Oracle," says Akira.

"She's a bit young to have to see this. And frankly speaking, the rest of your crew seems to have had more than one unpleasant encounter with sexual exploitation before."

Akira rubs at his forehead. Over the course of their run through Palaces, they've watched people's lives fall apart, their relationships crumble with people who raised them, learned of murder, learned that the very world as they knew it was founded on blood and corruption—but at the very least they have, _thankfully_ , avoided anything sexually traumatizing in these Palaces, which is no small feat considering how many Palace rulers seem preoccupied with it.

"Nobody is going to force anyone into anything," says Akira firmly. "Nobody is going to do anything they don't want to do. Okay?"

Akechi raises his eyebrows. "It solves our problem of being unable to find a way up to the next floor. We don't have any other way up, Joker."

"There _has_ to be another way."

"It seems to me like this room is meant to be used."

"No."

Akechi smiles. It's like looking at a frozen window pane. "How generous of you," Akechi remarks, which is really the sort of sentence that will keep Akira up at night for the next week, trying to decipher the nuances, the compliments, the hatred. "Unfortunately, I don't think there's another way."

"How do you know?" Akira says sharply.

"Because _I looked_ ," says Akechi, with a clip to his tone that reminds Akira that this boy is here, specifically, to kill him. Akechi takes a deep breath. "I did my research, Joker. Without using this room, I don't believe there _is_ a real way up to the next floor."

Akira bites his lip. "A rigged game."

"Like the rest of this casino, yes."

"We're still not doing it."

"I don't think you have a choice."

"I'm the leader. I say so."

"Pardon me," says Akechi, "but it feels like as a leader, the only directions you ever give are ones defending your team’s right not to listen to you.”

"I don't tell them what to do. We decide together."

"How democratic. When the tough calls need to be made, when decisions without clear or unanimous answers need to be determined, are you going to leave that up to _unanimous decision-making_ as well?"

Akira gives him a look. "They're not just my crew. They're my friends. It's weird to tell your friends what to do."

"Are we friends?" Akechi replies.

Akira gives him an even longer look. "You're not someone who listens to what I tell you anyway."

Akechi laughs. For the first time in a while, it sounds genuine. Closer to what he sounded like when they were together at Jazz Jin or loitering at the batting cages.

"Do you know what it means to be a leader?" says Akechi, and then Akira remembers that the face Akechi wore at Jazz Jin was only one of his many. "Leadership means that you take some choice away from the people who follow you. If you're going to be effective, you're going to have to be a little bit of a tyrant. Step on a few people's free wills. Maybe hurt some people to get your way."

"I'm not listening to this," Akira says.

"You should," says a woman's voice. "He's right."

Sae's shadow is sitting in the office chair, one leg crossed delicately over the other to expose the long expanse of her thigh. Akria steps forward, only for Akechi to hold out a hand to stop him. "She doesn't have the treasure," Akechi says quietly. "Attacking her now does nothing."

"She's the one who's going to make us do things we don't want to do."

"Of all people, I think Goro Akechi should be well-versed in doing things he doesn't want to do," Sae's shadow remarks.

Akechi stiffens.

"And you should take your own advice," Sae's shadow goes on. "If being a leader means being a little bit of a tyrant, I would say that being a good teammate means you'll have to be just a little bit... subservient."

"I've never been a big fan of teams," says Akechi lightly. "Detective Princes work alone, according to legend."

"How very too bad for you."

Every time Sae's shadow stands up, Akira has to realize just how _tall_ she is; with the heels and her legs combined, watching her get up makes him always expect her height to stop, only for her to just keep getting taller and taller and taller the more she pulls herself up. Like missing a stair you expected to be there.

"I'm the leader of my group," says Akira. "If you want me to make a decision, then my decision as a leader is that my crew doesn't force anyone into something like this."

"As the leader, you get to make _other_ choices—like who does what, and what they do. I'm afraid you don't get the choice whether or not to avoid The Cheater's Room."

Akechi's face is bitter. "So there was never any choice at all."

"It's not like it's always bad when there's no choice," says Sae's shadow. "You get to tell yourself: There was no other way up the ladder. And since there was never an option not to climb, if the price is someone else's corpse and a little sacrificed virginity, it's the fault of the people who demanded it of you. Without another option, you can hardly blame yourself. Makes it easy to forgive yourself."

"Despicable actions don't get forgiven just because there was no alternative," says Akechi.

"Forgiven enough to get the job done," says Sae's shadow.

Akira is beginning to think that they're not talking about sexual favors anymore. Akira is beginning to wonder how many actions Sae forgives herself of, just enough to get the job done, by telling herself that she has no other choice.

Sae's shadow stalks closer, reaches out a gloved hand for Akechi. Akechi jolts away. "Fine," he says. His voice is brittle. "Let's get this over with."

"What? Now?"

"While I have the courage to do what I have to. Would you rather put one of the other Thieves through this? Half of them have a history of sexual exploitation."

Akira hesitates.

"Turn me down now or let us get on with it," says Akechi.

"I—that's—" Akira stammers. He can hear himself stammering in front of the very pretty boy who Akira has been secretly hanging out with for several months, which is very uncool and un-leader-y and not how he expected this to go. "I-I'm okay with it, but..."

"You don't sound very okay with it."

"I'm _fine_ ," says Akira, rather than admit to Goro Akechi, his quote-unquote esteemed rival in all competitions, that he's a virgin who's a little bit afraid of getting his dick wet. "I'm worried about you."

"I'm volunteering," says Akechi.

"You're not volunteering, you're being coerced into this!"

"Of course I am," Akechi says sharply. "But I don't have a choice."

Akira is beginning to think that they're very, very much not talking about sexual favors anymore.

Unfortunately this thought is immediately lost when Akechi pushes him onto the sofa, and then gets on his knees between—oh, holy fuck, Goro Akechi is between Akira's legs. "Tell me no now or stay still. I volunteered, so I'll do it. One blowjob is enough to qualify and we'll be on our way."

Even as he says it, the sheer fury in Akechi's face makes Akira wonder if Akechi will show his true colors as the Black Mask too early and Akira is about to get murdered entire weeks before the execution date, but then it's smoothed over as quickly as it came into the placid mask of the loyal and helpful Crow. _What incredible self-control_ , Akira thinks. He wishes that he were that... untouchable.

"What are you waiting for?" Sae's shadow says.

"Are you going to stay and watch?" Akira asks in disbelief.

"Seeing as you can't even get your dick out without directions," she replies, "I think so, don't you?"

Akira and Akechi share a mutually disgruntled look before Akira takes a steeling breath and pulls down his fly. He tries very hard not to think too much about taking his dick out in front of Akechi—not that Akechi hasn't seen his penis before, but it's... different when he knows that this isn't a bathhouse, and his penis is about to be in Akechi's mouth, and Akira might even cum in that mouth, and...

Sae's shadow sighs loudly.

"Can you go away?" Akechi snaps.

"I'm here to verify whether or not you deserve the bonuses The Cheater's Room gives you. No sexual acts witnessed by an authority, no bonuses." Sae's shadow leans against the desk; if she'd had a wine glass, Akira is sure she'd be swirling it. "Don't mind me."

Akechi's face goes tense with apprehension, like he's smelled something bad—not really the expression that Akira had hoped that Akechi would make when he has his nose three inches from Akira's dick.

"Sorry," Akira whispers.

"Like she said," Akechi murmurs back. "Don't apologize for something that you had no choice in."

Akechi swallows delicately. He takes Akira's soft cock in his hand—oh, geez, the careful touch of Akechi's white-gloved hands and long fingers on Akira's exposed cock probably means he won't be soft for very long—and Akechi lifts it up, pointing it head first towards his own mouth. From his apprehensive expression, Akechi almost looks like he's trying to figure out how to eat a large hot dog.

Now Akira wonders if he's the only person here who's never had sex before.

(What the fuck are they doing. Just because neither of them can admit they have zero experience to each other? Just because neither one of them can refuse a chance to prove themselves to each other? What the _fuck_ is going on—?)

Akechi's pink tongue pokes out between his lips. He leans in, lets the cockhead rest against his tongue and soft lips, like he's giving it an open-mouthed kiss. Akira tries very hard not to lose his shit at the sight of Goro Akechi on his knees, tongue cradling the tip of Akira's dick, hesitantly opening his mouth just enough to take the spongey head between his lips.

"Don't rush," Akira says, trying to be comforting. "Just... do whatever you're comfortable with. Okay?"

Akechi's eyebrows go a little pinched with concentration. He's still moving his mouth painfully slowly and painfully self-consciously, like he's afraid he'll move his lips and face in the wrong way and look less than photogenic while sucking dick. It's making _Akira_ self-conscious about being unphotogenic, and all he has to do is sit there with his dick out.

"Sorry," says Akira again on automatic, which gets him a glare from Akechi even with his cockhead between Akechi's lips. "Take your time. Don't push yourself—"

Sae's shadow clicks her tongue. "Cute, but that's not what he needs."

"I didn't ask for your opinion," Akira tells her.

"You should. I'm right." Sae's shadow gets up off the desk, comes closer at a slow, unhurried pace. "You see, he's one of those who doesn't _want_ a choice."

Akechi's eyes glint angrily and he starts to pull away, only for her hand to grab him by the hair and push him down. "Ah-ah-ah," Sae's shadow says. Her gloved hand keeps his face pressed to Akira's thigh inelegantly, his breath hot against the base of Akira's exposed cock. "Not until you're done."

"Stop forcing him," Akira blurts out.

"He volunteered. I'm practically helping him." Sae's shadow pulls Akechi's face up by the hair and shakes him. Akira stares to see Akechi's magazine-perfect, porcelain-doll face contort with the sheer force that she pulls his skin and the barely-restrained sneer in his lips. "Stop being a coward. Open your mouth."

"You don't have to make him!" Akira says. "Just let him figure it out on his own!"

"No?" Sae's shadow squeezes Akechi's jaw with her gloved hand. "You're right. I don't. But I'm going to do it anyway. Open your mouth, boy, or I'll break it open myself."

Her nail digs through the glove into Akechi's soft cheek. Fury and pride and something else struggle in Akechi's face.

Slowly, his mouth opens, ready for Akira's cock.

"Tongue out."

Slowly, his tongue slides out, too.

"Suck."

Slowly, Akechi's head lowers, and Akira forgets to breathe as the tip of his own cock disappears into the tight ring of Akechi's mouth. Inch by inch, Akechi dips further, until half of Akira's cock is in his mouth and Akira can feel every inch of Akechi's hot, long tongue smooth against the underside. Akechi's eyes twitch with barely restrained rage even as a thick blush rises across his skin.

Sae's shadow looks up at Akira with a smirk. "A word of advice: Don't give him a choice. He doesn't want that."

Akechi freezes. Goes stiff, like he's panicking or ready to commit murder or both. He moves to pull away again, only for Sae's shadow to push him down almost to the root, making Akechi's eyes go wide as he coughs and sputters and tears up against Akira's pelvis bone and Akira tries not to come instantly as his cockhead squeezes into Akechi's tight throat.

"That's the trick," says Sae's shadow. Her voice is cool and soft but unfazed completely. "I'm right, aren't I, Akechi-kun? That's why you volunteered in the first place."

Sae's shadow lets him go. "Akechi, breathe—" Akira begins, just as Akechi takes maybe half a breath through his nose and tries to sink back down almost as far as he'd just gone, until Akira can feel him struggling not to gag. Akira bites his own fist and gasps. And then Akechi does it again, and again, going faster. Mindlessly, Akechi tucks his hair behind his ear to better swallow Akira's cock, dragging the whole length of him against the inside of his mouth so that Akira can see every inch of him against his cheek.

"That's always what was wrong with you, Akechi-kun. That's the difference between me and you, the victor and the loser," Sae's shadow says. "You hated being used just as much as I did, but you kept letting them use you anyway. I wonder why?"

When Akechi's eyes flutter half-open, they're unfocused and hazy. He dips deeper, his shiny, rubbed-raw lips dipping closer to the root, and he swallows when the head of Akira's cock hits his throat.

"See?" says Sae's shadow silkily. "He _likes_ it." Her voice lowers to a whisper: "It helps him forgive himself for what he does."

Akechi's cheeks color a bright pink and he shuts his eyes again, too tight, and it just makes him look more desperate as he sinks his lips down around Akira's length.

Akira thinks he must be hallucinating, or having an incredibly vivid wet dream, but even in his wildest fantasies he couldn't have conjured up the delicate expression Akechi's face makes when his head bobs lewdly up and down Akira's cock, like he's struggling to maintain his own self-control. "You can do better than that. Suck harder," Sae's shadow orders, and Akira groans as Akechi hollows his cheeks, makes the loudest wet noise with his mouth, drags his lips up the whole length.

Delicious suction makes Akira gasp, barely resisting the urge to fuck forward into Akechi's mouth. The next time Akechi flattens his tongue to Akira's cock and sucks, Akira really does buck. Akechi's eyes open again, looking dazed and a little confused but not at all upset.

"You're going to have to learn how to deepthroat so he can fuck your mouth," Sae's shadow says like an observation. "You'll have fun that way. Relax. Let him use you. As for you—" Sae's shadow tells Akira, "—hand here."

As if in a dream, Akira watches his own hand replace hers at the top of Akechi's head.

The red Joker glove mixes with the soft brown of Akechi's hair. Akechi glances up through his wet lashes, eyes unmistakably vacant and waiting for directions, and Akira doesn't even think: He pushes Akechi's mouth down across his cock, and Akechi goes down without even a whimper of resistance.

"Just like that," Sae's shadow says, sounding amused.

After that, it's less like Akechi blowing him and more like Akira shoving him down to his own tempo while Akechi lets him drag his head up and down. Akira tries not to drive too deep, but it feels so good, and his hips keep moving faster and harder and his grip tightens without his realizing. Maybe Akechi got the hang of relaxing his throat after all, because his eyes stay closed and fluttering even as Akira drives deep enough to touch the tight spot where Akechi's gag reflex should start, even when Akira stays that deep to grind the head of his cock against the back of his throat. There's something about seeing Akechi's lips tight around his cock and his expression crumpled, as if savoring Akira in his mouth, that makes Akira's gut tighten. Akira barely has enough conscious thought to rip him away just as Akira starts to come.

Not fast enough, because Akechi winds up with most of it still all over his tongue, making him convulse and choke and gag all over again. When Akira's done coming, Akechi finally pulls off and sputters, saliva and Akira's cum dripping from his used mouth and tongue onto the ground.

"You're a natural," says Sae's shadow to Akira, and then to Akechi: "Did you like that, Akechi-kun? You're a bit of a natural yourself."

Akechi's ragged breathing is so wet, Akira can't stop thinking about the slick noise Akechi's throat made when Akira's cock used it like a sleeve. Sae's shadow pats him before she takes a seat in her chair.

"Two for one deal," says Sae's shadow, and spreads her legs. Akira chokes to see that she's not wearing anything under her dress. "Come here, pet."

Akira thinks his heart is going to stop to see Akechi, face still wet from tears and saliva and Akira's cum, crawl on his hands and knees willingly to kneel beside her chair without even a word of argument or resistance. She smooths his hair back in what looks like a tender motion for all of one second before she cups the back of his head and shoves his face between her legs. Akechi's body jerks, and then there's the soft, unmistakeable sound of licking.

Sae's shadow sighs. She opens her legs wider, relaxing against her chair to enjoy it, and grinds his face mercilessly into her folds, bending his neck back at a painful angle that doesn't even make Akechi whimper. If anything, he goes slack against her, letting her use his mouth and his face while his body slumps like a stringless puppet.

"Good," she says, without sounding breathless or even affected at all.

Akira isn't sure he breathes the entire time Akechi eats her out. He can't stop watching the effortless way she molds him to her, how eagerly he attaches his lips to her pussy, the casual way she uses his face when he isn't doing the job right. He knows when her high-heeled foot presses into Akechi's crotch because he trembles every time and works harder, ever more obedient and totally subservient in her hands and between her legs, until at last she tilts her head back and sighs, which is the only sign that she's come at all. He doesn't stop licking until she pulls his face from her cunt and drops him on the floor like a used rag.

"That's what divides the winners from the losers," Sae's shadow says, and crosses her long legs as if nothing unusual just happened. "He simply doesn't have the actual will to win, because what he really _wants_ is to be proven wrong. Isn't that right, pet?"

Whether Akechi has any thoughts on this statement, he doesn't vocalize them, and Akira can't see anything from the way his hair hangs over his face. "Don't give him a choice," Sae's shadow warns him. "He doesn't want to be right." And then she stands up and sweeps out of the room without hesitation.

Akechi doesn't even move from where she dropped him. He's still kneeling, his legs spread open from where she's forced them open to step on his cock. Stiffly, like he's not sure he knows what he's supposed to be doing, Akechi wipes at his wet face with the back of his hand. When Akira kneels on the ground in front of him, the hem of his long shirt barely hides his erection.

"You're hard," says Akira, like an incredibly intelligent and observant person.

"No," Akechi says hoarsely. It's so obviously not true that Akira doesn't know why he bothers. "This is—nothing. Don't—look at it. It'll go down."

 _Don't give him a choice_ , Sae's shadow's voice echoes. _He doesn't want to be right._

"You deserve something, don't you?" says Akira quietly. "Since you were so good."

Akechi's eyes close. His lips go thin, trying not to make a noise.

"Touch yourself," Akira says.

Akechi whimpers. His expression cracks. At last, still kneeling, he lowers his gloved hand to palm himself through his white pants, where the outline of his cock strains at the seam. His eyes close with shame as he screws up his face, trying to stop himself from making too much noise or letting himself show too much pleasure, but his hand moves faster, chasing completion despite himself. "Take yourself out," Akira says, and Akechi doesn't even fight him now, just undoes the zipper with a sound loud and ringing in Akira's ears and lifts his cock from his underwear to hang open and exposed.

Akira gingerly lifts the long hem of his shirt, careful not to touch Akechi's skin. If there was anything neat and formally chaste about Akechi's prince outfit and pure white gloves before, it's entirely ruined by his red, plump cock leaking over the edge of his underwear. Akechi has his eyes shut. He doesn't do anything else, as if waiting for instructions. "Keep going," Akira says softly, "like this. So I can watch you."

Like magic, Akechi does exactly as he says: His slim, pretty fingers wrap around his swollen dick and he begins to stroke himself, at first slowly, trying to restrain himself from bucking or twitching, and then faster and faster as he can't help himself. He licks his own gloved palm for saliva, too frantic to be self-conscious. His shoulders hunch as he bites his lip, trying desperately to keep his noises between his teeth, but the soft pleading noises from his throat are unmistakable in Akira's ears. There's something debauched about the way Goro "Detective Prince" Akechi works the head of his own cock expertly to wring a full-body shudder from himself, and all of a sudden Akira can imagine Akechi in the privacy of his own apartment, after all the cameras are off and the interviews are done, touching himself under the sheets like any other teenaged boy, figuring out how to jerk himself off and make himself cum messily into his own hands.

"Feels good?" Akira asks softly.

Akechi gasps in response. Akira holds perfectly still, trying to keep the edge of the shirt lifted without touching his body to keep Akechi's cock exposed; Akechi shudders in place, like he's trying not to move too much to keep that last measure of control. "Akechi? Does it feel good?"

Akechi shakes his head frantically. Now he's using two hands, one to tug at his own sac and the other to finger his slit.

"Don't lie to me," Akira says quietly. "Are you going to come?"

Akechi whines. He doesn't even duck his head in embarrassment, this time. He doesn't hide at all, just lets Akira hold him open and exposed to watch.

"Are you close?"

"—Yes," Akechi gasps suddenly, like the words are wrenched from him. "I'm going to come—Joker, let me come, I need it, let me—"

"You can," says Akira without even thinking about why Akechi would need his permission in the first place, and almost instantly Akechi groans and curls forward, cum spilling from his cock and between his gloves to drip along the floor. Akira holds him up before he can collapse entirely on him, eyes fixed on Akechi's cock twitching in his own hands as he wrings himself dry, and only when Akechi goes still does Akira let him slump against his shoulder.

Akechi's breathing is harsh against Akira's chest, even through the leather vest. Hesitantly, Akira puts his hand on Akechi's head like Sae's shadow taught him. "Mgh," Akechi says, and Akira takes his chance to tilt Akechi's head to the side and place a little kiss along his cheekbone.

“You really did like it," he breathes.

“Shut up,” Akechi says raspily. He shakes out of Akira's grip and pulls away, wiping at his face. "I'm sure this was amusing for you—"

"It wasn't. I just wanted to make sure you... wanted it."

Akechi takes a bracing breath. Quickly, he does up his fly, then wipes his own cum off his gloved hands with a pissed-off look Akira would almost call nervous. "We're never talking about this," Akechi says. "You are never going to bring it up. And we are never doing anything like this again."

"Do you want that choice?" Akira asks.

Akechi goes dead silent.

When Akira is sure he isn't going to respond, he leans in, close to his ear like co-conspirators.

"After the palace," Akira whispers. "Come to Leblanc with me."

Akechi gives him a foul look. "Is that an order?"

"Do you even want me to ask?"

Akechi bites his lip.

Looks away.

Swallows hard.

"We're never talking about this," Akechi says again. "And you are never going to bring it up. Understand?"

Akira smiles. "Completely," he murmurs, and doesn't ask for permission when he tilts Akechi towards him for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> this is thematically better for maruki's palace but it's set in sae's palace because sae is Big Sexy
> 
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